


Rocket Man

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amnesia fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocket Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fannish advent 2012

Author: [](http://melagan.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://melagan.livejournal.com/)**melagan**  
Title: Rocket Man  
Pairing: John/Rodney  
Rating: G  
Word count: ~ 2000  
beta: [](http://mischief5.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mischief5.livejournal.com/)**mischief5** mistakes=mine  
Summary: Amnesia fic.

**Rocket Man**

 

They went about their business as separately as they'd arrived. Searching for – well John didn't know what the others searched for, or if they found it, but at least once a day, they gathered together in the abandoned, dusty lot to watch Rodney McKay.

Teyla, Ronon, Rodney. John ticked off the names in his head. From the little they said, their memories were as hazy as his own. They came from different directions, each arriving here alone. But it was John who found Rodney first.

Rodney McKay was the constant. If you found anyone to ask, they'd tell you McKay was always here. Rodney and his Project. Capital letter implied. For John, he was an anchor when every other thing seemed to drift on by like wisps of sand in the wind.

"You've seen others?" John asked him once.

"Sometimes," Rodney answered. "They all leave after a few days. You will too. No one stays long. They just come by to see the crazy man."

"Does it bother you?" John had asked.

"No. They bring stuff and leave it. Pieces of metal, magnetic coils, stuff they think I can use. It's odd, when you think about it. It's almost always exactly what I need."

 

That conversation had taken place weeks ago, and not only was John still here, he was pretty damn sure he wasn't going anywhere. Not as long as Rodney was here.

It was late afternoon. The sun stretched fiery-red trails across the sky, a last hurrah before twilight. They sat in the beach chairs John found and repaired for the occasion and passed around bottles of cold brew.

That was Ronon's contribution. He'd scavenged the drink from somewhere. John kept meaning to ask but figured Ronon wouldn't tell him anyway. In this place, most times it was better not to know too much.

John took a long drink and let it soothe his dry throat. For want of a better word, they'd all agreed to call it beer. The alcohol content was negligible but it was cold and wet. It tasted faintly of blueberries, which dredged up shadows of vague memories. Places with wide, green, grassy spaces, under a sun more yellow than the one above. But why he thought that, he could never remember.

"Hello, John." Teyla gravely handed him a small bowl of kanni nuts. They looked like hard, rough, purple marbles, but they were easy to peel and naturally salty. She nodded in Rodney's direction. "How is he today?"

John followed her gaze. From the sound of it, McKay was likely doing something to the guts of the machine. No one could tell for sure because McKay kept his work covered and refused to let anyone see. Still, he couldn't hide the cables that snaked out from under the huge tarp or the occasional zapping noise.

"Is he any closer to finishing?" she asked.

John smiled up at Teyla. "No idea. But he did promise to let us see it tomorrow."

Teyla brought something different every time. It might be food or blankets. Sometimes, she brought a something for Rodney's Project. One day, she brought what turned out to be the most precious commodity they had. A radio.

It wasn't much more than a basketful of pieces the first time John saw it. He barely gave it second glance except for the copper wiring. Teyla must have kept some memory or had some insight to what it was though because she'd presented it to Rodney like a gift. Her voice was softer than John had ever heard it when she asked, "Can you fix it, Rodney?"

John thought Rodney was going to laugh at her, but he didn't. Instead, he took the basket full of bits and pieces out of her hands, saying gently, "I'll do what I can."

This afternoon matched a dozen others just like it. They sat, drank, and talked quietly until the light faded and Rodney finally put down his tools. He joined them, sitting next to John while Ronon built up a fire.

The sweat from the hot, afternoon sun made the dust cling to Rodney's skin. It looked hot and prickly and John wanted to soothe it away. Take Rodney to a stream, pull all his clothes off, and pour cool water over his heated skin with his bare hands.

There were some other things John found himself wanting to do. Feelings stirred in him that he didn't recognize or know what to do about. He handed Rodney a beer.

"How's the Project coming?" John asked.

"Good, good," Rodney answered. He nodded toward the radio. "Do you think this is going to be one of those nights?"

"Could be. Never can tell," John drawled. He wasn't fooling anyone. They all leaned forward just a little bit closer to the radio and held their breath when Teyla turned the knob.

Most nights, all they heard was static, but on rare nights like this one, music played.

Strains of a melody floated across the air. Sweet chariots and homecoming, half-remembered words coming back to him as the song played on.

Sometimes, John pictured a lone DJ off in a tower somewhere keeping hope going one record at a time. Whoever was doing it, he was grateful. Life here was harsh. Harsh enough and anything or anyone that took the lines of stress away from Teyla's face and made Ronon smile was worth being grateful to.

 

Even Rodney looked undone. He held the beer bottle loosely in one hand. Eyes closed, he leaned his head against the back of the chair and looked more at ease than John could remember seeing in days.

John studied the hollow of Rodney's throat. It wouldn't take much to reach out and put his thumb there. To feel the warm pulse of Rodney's life under his hand. It wouldn't take much at all to push Rodney's shirt collar down, for John to trace that tempting collarbone with his fingertips. Or his mouth. John thought he would very much like to put his mouth on Rodney and wondered if he would taste salty like the kanni.

It was an impulse he didn't follow. It puzzled John some days. He didn't know if the desire to touch Rodney was new or a memory. And he damn well didn't know what he would do if Rodney liked it.

~*~

 

The wind blew in gusts so strong the smart thing to do was to stay out of the open and hole up until they died down. Didn't matter. John knew Teyla and Ronon would show up if only to check on Rodney. John intended to get there first. He leaned into the wind, one staggering footstep after the other.

It made him nervous to think about Rodney hunkered down in his self-proclaimed rocket ship. The thing could be made out of corrugated tin for all John knew. Okay, probably not, knowing Rodney. That still didn't mean the place was safe.

The winds were just the beginning.

"John!" Teyla greeted him, clasping both of his hands in hers.

"Is Ronon here yet?" The winds whipped viciously around them, forcing John to yell to be heard.

"Rodney asked him to help tie down the tarp but I'm afraid…"

"Too late." John and Teyla watched as the tarp heaved and rolled, caught up in the wind like a child's kite.

It was John's first look at the rocket ship. Even lying on its side, it lacked a certain pointy-ness that the name rocket ship implied. Before he could say anything, Rodney began to frantically wave at them from the back hatch. "C'mon, people, get in before the rain starts!"

There was no time to hesitate or ask questions. He'd seen what happened to a body caught in the acid rains and this storm was moving in a lot faster than he'd expected.

Rodney and Ronon were already inside. Both reached out steadying hands to help pull John and Teyla to safety.

"Will this strange machine be enough protection, Rodney?" Teyla asked. She stood in the middle of the compartment, her curious gaze taking in every detail of their surroundings. There was food, water, bedding of some kind, and plenty of room for the four of them.

John wished he could see better, but the remaining daylight was blocked by the closed hatch. Before he could take a step toward what had to be the flight controls, the lights came on. "Cool."

"Yes, John, it's very cool," Rodney, snapped. "And, yes, Teyla, we're perfectly safe here." Rodney sighed. "Sorry. It's just, I had this big plan to unveil all of this as a surprise and now…" He shrugged. "Surprise?"

"Rodney?" Teyla asked, "The outside of this device seems…are you sure it won't roll over in the wind?"

"She has a point, McKay." Ronon folded his arms across his chest.

"It's got inertial dampeners," John offered. "I'm right, aren't I, Rodney? Bet you could make this seem like it weighed…"

"Yes, yes, that's exactly right," Rodney interrupted. "But how did you know?"

John moved to sit in the pilot's chair and waved his hands over the controls. A full diagnostic panel leapt up in front of him. "I.... Hey, does any of this look familiar to the rest of you?"

Teyla gave a slow nod. Ronon hesitated, putting a hand on the hilt of his knife before saying, "It does. Should it?"

"Yeah, big guy," John answered, but he turned to beam at Rodney. "It definitely should."

"Where did you find it?" Teyla asked.

Rodney looked uncomfortable. "I didn't. For as long as I can remember, I…I've always been here." He looked plaintively at John. "It was broken, you see, and I knew… I couldn't leave. I had to stay and fix it."

"It's okay, buddy." John made Rodney sit down in the co-pilot seat. "You did the right thing." He raised an eyebrow in Ronon and Teyla's direction.

"You did what you had to do, McKay." Ronon responded. "I'm not sorry I'm here."

"I too, am glad to be here," Teyla said. "I believe it feels quite safe after all. It was a fine endeavor, Rodney, even if it does not fly."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. It works. We can..." Rodney looked at John, a baffled expression on his face. "What can we do? I was so busy fixing it, I never thought that far ahead."

John put a hand on Rodney's shoulder for a long moment, long enough to let the heat from Rodney's body sink into his palm. Long enough to take a deep breath. Long enough to catch Rodney's gaze with his own, assuring himself they were both on the same page. His fingers curled tighter on Rodney's shoulder and John tugged him close.

"Doesn't matter what we _can_ do. What matters is we don't have to keep drifting, trying to piece together fragments of memory that don't make any sense here. What matters is we have a choice. We don't have to just survive anymore."

John let his thumb caress the down-turned slant of Rodney's mouth. Finally. Seemed like he'd wanted to do that forever.

Behind them, Ronon cleared his throat and Teyla elbowed him in the ribs. "We should give you some privacy," Teyla said.

"It's all right, guys," John said, never taking his eyes from Rodney's face. "I know you can feel it too. We're team. No more hiding."

Carefully, softly, John kissed Rodney's mouth. He might sound sure but the kiss was full of questions. Rodney's tender sigh as he brought his hand up to John's face was answer enough.

Reluctantly, John pulled away, all too aware of his audience. "I don't know how he did it, but he did." He tightened his hold, grateful to have Rodney's fingers entwined with his own. "As of now, we're going to start making all new memories."

~*~

 

 


End file.
